And so we reach the final novel in the first phase of Donald “Richard Stark” Westlake’s Parker crime series, and indeed in the first phase of my reviewing trawl through the Parkers: Butcher’s Moon. I’ve actually got three posts planned on Butcher’s Moon: this first one, which is, obviously, a review; a look at the Random House first edition of the novel, in particular an ex-library copy I found fairly recently, but also the book’s design and collectibility; and a look at the first British edition of the book as well.

But let’s begin with the substantive issue, namely the novel itself. First published in 1974, Butcher’s Moon is not only the capstone on Parker phase one—i.e. 1962–1974—but also the culmination of everything Westlake had been doing in the series to this point. Westlake’s been quoted as saying that he stopped writing Parker stories (for twenty-three years, that is, until he started again with Comeback in 1997) because those stories just stopped coming to him. On the evidence of Butcher’s Moon, it’s easy to see why. The novel reintroduces characters from almost all fifteen of its predecessors in a tale that is, in the first instance, a direct sequel to the previous Parker-but-one, Slayground (Parker #14, 1971), but also, and perhaps more audaciously, a continuation of, and completing of, a subplot introduced in the very first book in the series, The Hunter (1962).

Parker’s run of bad luck—see the four novels from The Sour Lemon Score (Parker #12, 1969) to Plunder Squad (Parker #15, 1972)—persists as the story opens. A botched jewelry store job leaves him out of pocket and in dire need of cash, so he calls up Alan Grofield, the actor-turned-thief with whom he worked on the heist at the start of Slayground/The Blackbird (Grofield #3, 1969—the two novels sharing an opening chapter, remember)—a heist that resulted in Grofield being hospitalized and Parker abandoning a stashed bag of dough in an amusement park in the Midwest city of Tyler. Grofield is similarly on his uppers, his summer stock theater in Mead Grove, Indiana continuing to drain his resources and the events of his last solo outing, Lemons Never Lie (Grofield #4, 1971), leaving him without a pot to piss in. So when Parker suggests they head to Tyler to retrieve their loot, Grofield readily accepts.

Predictably, once they arrive in Tyler and search Fun Island, there’s no trace of the money, so—much as Parker did in The Hunter—he and Grofield make a nuisance of themselves with the local Outfit (i.e. Mob) operation in an effort to track down the boodle. Adolf Lozini, the Mafia boss who led the hunt for Parker through Fun Island in Slayground, is still in charge—but only just. There’s a coup d’état brewing, and the last thing the usurpers need is Parker and Grofield making things more difficult. But successfully and violently muddy the waters they do, until Grofield is shot (again; see also Parker #8, The Handle, 1966/Grofield #1, The Damsel, 1967) and then held hostage and Parker has to resort to calling in help from a Dirty Dozen (including himself) of former associates from previous books—among them Handy McKay from The Man with the Getaway Face (Parker #2, 1963), Stan Devers from The Green Eagle Score (Parker #10, 1967), and Ed Mackey from Plunder Squad—to carry out a series of jobs on Outfit enterprises in and around Tyler before hitting the Outfit men themselves.

There’s a school of thought which reasons that Butcher’s Moon represents the strongest evidence yet of a softening, a humanizing of the initially emotionless, machine-like Parker, a development that can be traced back to his hooking up with Claire in The Rare Coin Score (Parker #9, 1967). Frankly, I don’t buy it. Parker cheerfully—or, more accurately, dourly—murders his way through Butcher’s Moon, gunning down one man on a sidewalk just to send a message and visiting an apocalyptic vengeance on the hapless mobsters at the close of the book. If that’s a “softer” Parker, my name’s Alan Marshall.

Those who present the case for Parker becoming more human—the estimable Max Allan Collins in this Mystery*File review, say, or more recently, by inference, the effervescent Tucker Stone in this Factual Opinion review—point to Parker gathering together his “friends” to take on the Outfit, and more specifically to a scene two-thirds into the novel once he’s done so. Taking the question of the relationship between Parker and his associates first, I think it’s a mistake to view the heisters Parker brings to Tyler as his pals. Sure, they’re men he can trust—to an extent—but they’re hardly friends; it’s not as if Parker hangs out with any of them when he’s not working (inviting the guys upstate, Parker in Bermuda shorts, the convivial host, slapping some steaks on the grill, passing round a six-pack… nah, can’t see it), and for their part, they’re essentially in Tyler to make some money. Parker is basically assembling a hit squad of co-workers, much as he did in The Outfit (Parker #3, 1963), with a definite aim in mind.

As to the specific scene, that hinges on why Parker is even bothering to get Grofield back—the argument being that, hitherto, Parker would have done the practical thing and left him behind. I suspect, however, that there’s something more meta going on here. It’s a question that Westlake himself addresses after Parker explains that the twelve of them will launch an assault on the Outfit to retrieve Grofield, after which we get this passage:

His intensity had startled them a little. Nobody said anything until Handy McKay, speaking very quietly, said, “That’s not like you.”

What kind of shit was this? Parker had expected a back-up from Handy, not questions. He said, “What’s not like me?”

“A couple things,” Handy said. “For one, to go to all this trouble for somebody else. Grofield, me, anybody. We all of us here know we got to take care of ourselves, we’re not the Travelers Aid Society. You, too. And the same with Grofield. What happens to him is up to him.”

“Not when they send him to me piece by piece,” Parker said. “If they kill him, that’s one thing. If they turn him over to the law, get him sent up, that’s his lookout. But these bastards rang me in on it.”

Handy spread his hands, letting that point go. “The other thing,” he said, “is revenge. I’ve never seen you do anything but play the hand you were dealt. Now all of a sudden you want a bunch of people dead.”

Parker got to his feet. He’d been patient a long time, he’d explained things over and over, and now he was getting itchy. Enough was enough. “I don’t care,” he said. “I don’t care if it’s like me or not. These people nailed my foot to the floor, I’m going round in circles, I’m not getting anywhere. When was it like me to take lumps and just walk away? I’d like to burn this city to the ground, I’d like to empty it right down to the basements. And I don’t want to talk about it anymore, I want to do it. You’re in, Handy, or you’re out. I told you the setup, I told you what I want, I told you what you’ll get for it. Give me a yes or a no.”

What Westlake is doing here is directly addressing us, the readers. Westlake doesn’t care that it’s slightly out of character for Parker to want to rescue Grofield: the author simply wishes to write a climactic assault on the Outfit compound, which he subsequently does, with nerve-jangling bravado. It could be argued that the transition is clumsily handled, that for a brief moment the gears and levers of the plot become visible; but Westlake understands this, admits that’s the case, and dares us to either go along with him or give up on the story. Get on board, he’s saying, or get gone.

Structurally, Butcher’s Moon marks something of a departure from previous books in the series. Westlake dispenses with the traditional four parts in favor of a continuous, largely linear narrative. Again, that’s in keeping with both the apogeic nature of the enterprise—there’s little time for Stark Cutaways as we barrel towards the finish line—and the more experimental aspects of the late-1960s/early-1970s Parker novels. That Westlake arrived at what is in essence a standard novel approach having spent the previous four Parkers tinkering with structure is perhaps surprising, but by dint of its formal ordinariness and additional—but again more familiar in comparison to other, non-Stark novels—length (it’s a lot longer than the Parkers’ typical 160 pages), perversely, Butcher’s Moon actually stands out from the crowd.

Butcher’s Moon isn’t, I don’t think, the best book in the initial run of the series; for my money that’s still The Seventh/The Split (Parker #7, 1966), which has a terrific Parker-perplexing set-up, a blistering blood-soaked finale and a killer last line. But it’s one of the best, certainly in the top five, and a fitting finale for the first phase of this brilliant, unique crime series.

As ever, you can read Violent World of Parker proprietor Trent’s thoughts on Butcher’s Moon on the book’s dedicated page, but next up from me: the 1974 Random House first edition of the novel…

Great review, though there’s a factual error. Grofield doesn’t get shot at the beginning of Slayground. His injuries are sustained through Laufman wrecking the Ford and his head going into the windshield as the car topples end-over-end. A small but worth-pointing-out detail.

Very nice review. I have often wondered about why Parker would seem to break character to go after Grofield, but I truly loved this novel from beginning to end, despite the fact it was probably the longest of the original Parker novels. I agree with your explanation – Stark/Westlake just wanted the readers to go with him on the ride and to hell with staying 100% in character. Plus, I can see Parker finally getting fed up with the Mob and wanting some retribution, Grofield or otherwise. I also think this is in the top 5 of the original series. My favorites are The Score, The Sour Lemon Score, Plunder Squad, The Hunter, and this one.

I love Butcher’s Moon. I’ve always thought it was Stark’s tip of the hat to Dashiell Hammett’s great novel, Red Harvest, which features a nameless stranger who comes into town and stirs up a hornets’ nest of a gang war, ping-ponging back and forth between the various factions. Hammett’s story has been re-told many times — both officially and unofficially — from Yojimbo to Fistful of Dollars to Last Man Standing to Lucky Number Slevin. Stark’s take, in which he doubles down on the daredevil theatrics of The Outfit, is a masterpiece. And while Westlake always claimed that Stark’s voice just unexpectedly left him, it’s hard for me to believe he didn’t plan on Butcher’s Moon being the final book in the series. It feels like a capper.

While I don’t think Butcher’s Moon features a more human Parker, but I do think that Parker, in his own way, cares for Grofield in ways he doesn’t entirely understand or acknowledge. In The Handle, Parker goes out of his way to get a critically wounded Grofield medical attention and a place to recuperate. His curt explanation (“We were working together”) works, but I think it skims the surface of his motivation. I don’t think the scene you quote is just Stark waving his hands in hopes of moving the plot along. I think he’s exploring a dynamic of Parker’s relationship with Grofield that we haven’t seen with any other character save Claire.

Interesting notion, Greg, but I wonder if we could even take it further. Since Westlake took the trouble to write four Grofield solo novels (as well as having him feature in a good number of Parkers), perhaps Parker is channeling Westlake’s own feelings for Grofield, a character he was clearly fond of. Maybe Parker doesn’t quite comprehend his motivations vis a vis rescuing Grofield because there’s a higher power – Westlake – pulling his strings…

Collin, good point about the Mob. Those feckers have been messing Parker about since The Hunter.

WS, that is indeed a brilliant passage, and one that Stephen King always point to, too.

My personal explanation for Parker’s behavior regarding Grofield was that getting sent your partner’s fingers is just a huge insult, and he wasn’t going to take that.

People don’t tend to insult Parker, for obvious reasons, so perhaps we just never saw this side of him before. Or is it just that the previous insults we’ve read about involved dollars, so we chalked up his motivation mostly to dollars? “When was it like me to take lumps and just walk away?” Who says the lumps always have to be measured in dollars?

I’m going to expand on this in a future piece (perhaps far in the future, because I need to revisit a few books first, including this one), so I’m going to stop that line of thought here for now.

Greg:

The book certainly does feel like the end of the series, and I covered that a bit in my post on the book. But one thing that struck me, also mentioned, was the character who shows up near the end who seems intended to be a future nemesis (or perhaps partner!) of Parker. Was Westlake hedging his bets, just in case he decided to bring Parker back?

Tis a shame he didn’t revive that character after Parker returned.

Wallace and Nick:

That passage is also highlighted in Parker: The Martini Edition, recently reviewed by me here.

Clue, you’re correct. The answer is in the first few chapters of Breakout. It’s quite possible DEW forgot that he’d killed off Mackey and then after using him again in Comeback, someone probably mentioned that he was supposed to be dead, so DEW improvised and explained the inconsistency in Breakout.

By the way, DEW is hardly alone in this capacity; several writers I can think of off the top of my head who’ve had to use some fancy footwork to explain an inconsistency. I even won a couple of cool gifts from James W. Hall for being the first one to point out a glaring (to me) inconsistency in one of his Thorn books, and the book was 15 or so years old when I read it. I merely pointed it out on his website. He was amused. I guess he thought it was going to never be caught, since no one had mentioned it in all those years.

I’ve often thought writers, especially series writers, should have at least one uber-fan they can give a manuscript to before it’s published to check for any errors/inconsistencies in continuity.

They were two autographed T- Shirts, one Lime Green and the other Mango, really beautiful, heavy cloth ones, with the Thorn Tackle and Bait logo, and an illustration of Blackwater Sound, the place Thorn lives. To be honest, I’m not even sure if there’s an actual Blackwater Sound in Key Largo, the area where Thorn has most of his adventures. I gave one to my dad, who was and still is totally unaware there is no such bait and tackle company in existence outside of Hall’s and his reader’s imaginations;-) lol

Hall’s Thorn books are great; Hall is a legit writer and no mere JDM wannabe. He’s also a poet, so there’s a lyrical quality to the books, sorta like James Lee Burke but not as overblown–if you’ve read Burke you know he has a thousand and one ways to describe the Bayou–but plenty of action and adventure.

The gaffe–I’ll tell you this much–Pay careful attention to the last page or so of Under Cover of Daylight, the first Thorn. Then when you get to Mean High Tide pay careful attention. That’s all I’ll say for now. If you still can’t figure it out after reading Mean High Tide, I’ll tell you what it is. But I suspect you’ll find it–although, according to Hall himself, I was the only one to ever notice what I consider a pretty glaring impossibility/oversight.

Kudos to your skills of observation and retention, as well as for being the only one of Hall’s readers to ever notice the error – or at least to have balls enough to bring it to his attention! Those t-shirts sound sweet! Speaking of t-shirts and swinging this discussion back to Parker…has anyone seen the limited edition Parker t-shirt that was included in Darwyn Cooke’s Christmas charity auction last winter? If you haven’t seen it, below is a link to Cooke’s blogspot. Go to December in the blog archive and check it out. I would love to have one of those!

BTW Dave…funny you should mention James Lee Burke…as I write this I am watching “Heaven’s Prisoners” with Alec Baldwin as Dave Robicheaux. That movie was ravaged by critics and I understand it was not a good version of the novel or good representation of Robicheaux, but my wife and I LOVE that movie! We also like “In the Electric Mist” with Tommy Lee Jones as Robicheaux. The Robicheaux series is another I would like to delve into sometime.

Oh, there’s so much stuff I have to backtrack and purchase, Parker-wise. Like Trent, I will be raising up stakes very soon; settling in a much better area and a larger pad to accomodate all my “stuff” as George Carlin so aptly put it. Then I will, in one fell swoop, get all the stuff on my list I’ve been meaning to buy. I want to wait til I’m settled and reorganized first. Lord, I empathize with Trent, though–a major move is down on my list with Hemmerhoid surgery and root canals of fun stuff to do.

Re Baldwin, funny–you were watching him in Heaven’s Prisoners yesterday and I was watching him in the remake of The Getaway. Underrated film–has a great cast along with Bladwin, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Kim Bassinger, James Woods, David Morse, and even Michael Madsen, whom I’ve often thought might make a good Parker. You and your wife have good taste, because Heaven’s Prisoners deserves more credit than it was given. Baldwin may not be the ideal Robicheaux, but I thought he did a good job, and overall the movie was a very decent piece of work. As was Electric Mist.

sorry i am so late to your reply posts. i am definitely going to read it so I will wait. I started the with the hunter at the beginning of April and I am now on comeback. I’ve never been much of a reader but these Parker books have simply hooked me.

Good for you both to commit to this diet! What’s my chelalnge I was raised with little to no sugar food in house. Now, living with Joe, and his boys, they constantly need sugar Everyday, especially before bedtime. Ugh. I’ve mentioned its not healthy. They can opt out and have apple before bedtime. Its tough on me, watching them eating not healthy, and it does tempt me to eat little sugar. I’m trying so hard to cut out sugar altogether. Sugar is addiction, research have proven that.

Hey quick question…I hope you guys are still reading this or some knowledgable Parker fan is…but I was wondering if the paperback version of “Payback” released in conjunction with the Mel Gibson movie is the original Stark novel just with Mel’s mug on the cover? I wanted to turn a friend onto Parker by sending him a copy of the first book. Not sure if he’d like it so I was going to go on the cheap and send a $4 copy of that book to him. It gives Stark as the author. Anyone know for sure?

There’s a new intro by DEW in the Payback reprint–cool, I’ll have to grab a copy just for that.

As for Rosie, I don’t know if Mel rode off into the sunset with her, but I sure wouldn’t mind the chance;-) lol The actress who played her was hot. One of the hottest women in a Parker film. Karen Black from The Outfit was sexy as hell, too.

– Hi Shelly, I did process my own imgaes but the color stuff wasn’t totally old-school with chemicals, etc. I forget the name of the monster machine we had but it was totally great to print late at night and wait for warm imgaes to roll out of the machine. I (sort of) miss those days.

I'll have more at the site when I get a chance to write it, but this is sad news. Brian Garfield was not only a hell of a writer, but a really nice guy.
https://t.co/ZtFwM1Q9dB

Ralph Dennis' Hardman series begins coming back in print today from Brash Books. Read about Dennis here, including his previously unpublished novel that "...makes Parker look like a sissy." I haven't read Dennis' work yet, but lots of friends are fans. https://t.co/ItJvWdKeje